


Not with Credits

by Coalmine301



Series: Comfortember 2020 [8]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker is a good bro, Blackmail, Gen, Heavy Angst, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Panic Attacks, Protective Padmé Amidala, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, dark!Bail Organa, minor fluff, probably should have tagged that earlier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27402538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coalmine301/pseuds/Coalmine301
Summary: “Name a price and I’m sure we can-”To his surprise Bail interpreted with a chuckle. “Oh, Kenobi,” the taller man replied, his grip tightening on the redhead’s shoulder. “I wasn’t speaking of credits.”
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, One sided Obi-wan Kenobi/Bail Organa, Padmé Amidala & Bail Organa
Series: Comfortember 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996339
Comments: 38
Kudos: 159





	1. The Deal

Never before had Obi-wan felt so helpless. All he could do was stare down at his former padawan laying limply in a medbay cot. The blonde’s tanned face was now frighteningly red and hot from the fever.

His flesh hand gripped Obi-wan’s own through his hazmat suit. If he could Obi-wan would never let go, forever standing by his brother’s side.

On the room’s other bed Ahsoka lay curled in a ball, occasionally whimpering from pain and discomfort. The newly Knighted togruta wasn’t faring much better than her former master.

They weren’t the only ones. Almost all of the Halls’ cots were occupied by Knights and Masters in varying degrees of illness. One or two even held young Padawans. 

Luckily they managed to get this outbreak mostly under control before it hit the creche, but it seemed to have struck everywhere else. 

A handful of clone troopers killed about the rooms as if unsure of what to do. They had been bred to be resistant to disease and so remained unaffected by this outbreak. Their former generals, on the other hand, weren’t so lucky. 

Ironic. The Order had fought and won a galactic war, only to be defeated by a plague.

“They’re getting worse,” Che mused at his side. “If we can’t get that bearwood root-”

“I’ll talk to the Chancellor,” Obi-wan replied. “He’s my friend. I can convince him to help us.”

He had to. The others depended on him.

* * *

Obi-wan’s most recent trek to the Senate Dome felt different than usual. He had been many times, both before and during the war. Yet ever since the war ended and the Sith lord had been exposed the Force felt… lighter, cleaner. Comforting and almost unnervingly so at the same time. 

It didn’t mean the mood itself was light, however. With the weight of his friends and family counting on him, Obi-wan couldn’t truly relax into it.

Almost before he knew it the Jedi found himself stepping into the lavish Chancellor’s office.

“Ah, Master Kenobi,” Bail greeted cheerfully from his place behind the oversized desk. He looked almost out of place in Palpatine’s old spot.

“Greetings, Chancellor,” Obi-wan replied with a respectful bow.

“What can I do for you today?”

“I bring bad news, I’m afraid,” Obi-wan replied. “A pair of knights were recently infected with Sunset Fever. And while we’ve done what we can to control it, the disease has spread throughout much of the Temple.”

Bail’s cheerful expression fell. “That is bad news,” he replied solemnly. “I confess I have never heard of such a disease. However I shall see to it that you receive all the aid you require be it extra healers or medicine.”

Obi-wan winced. “That’s just it,” he replied hesitantly. “Our healers have spoken with the locals and discovered a possible cure. One that mainly contains the root of a plant called bearwood. Unfortunately, bearwood only grows on Xorsa.”

As he spoke the chancellor walked around the desk to stand at his side. By the time Obi-wan finished Bail’s expression had grown hard. 

“I see,” the senator replied stoically, looming over the Jedi. “You want me to drop the embargo.” 

“Xorsa is no longer allied with the Separatists,” Obi-wan explained. “It wouldn’t make sense to continue Palpatine’s embargo against a planet that is no longer our enemy. Besides, you’ve been working on removing other former-CIS planets’ embargos.”

At that Bail gave a sigh, placing a firm hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Politics and economy are a little more complicated than you seem to believe. You will have to pay for-”

“We still have credits left over from the war effort,” Obi-wan interrupted, almost desperate now. The images of Anakin and Ahsoka, lying in medical beds and weakened with fever, flashed across his mind. 

“Name a price and I’m sure we can-”

To his surprise Bail interpreted with a chuckle. “Oh, Kenobi,” the taller man replied, his grip tightening on the redhead’s shoulder. “I wasn’t speaking of credits.”

Azure eyes widened as he realized what he meant. Instinctively Obi-wan tried to jerk away only to feel a small prick on the side of his neck. Any attempts to reach for the Force were unsuccessful as it danced out of his grasp.

Obi-wan’s legs suddenly gave out, unable to support his weight any more. In an instant Bail was there, strong arms wrapping around Obi-wan, preventing him from hitting the marble floor. The embrace was firm yet tender. It would have been almost welcome in any other situation.

Strength rapidly fading, Obi-wan couldn’t resist as Bail scooped him up bridal style. In fact it was now a struggle just to keep his head up. Whatever drug Bail had hit him with was strong.

With steady strides, the Chancellor carried obi-wan from his office, through a couple other rooms. Obi-wan wasn’t sure where exactly he was being taken though he had a few horrifying guesses.

There was a touch on his inner thigh and Obi-wan couldn’t help the slight whimper that escaped him. Nor could he hide the bright blush now springing across his features.

Bail merely chuckled, pressing a kiss to the redhead’s temple. “Shh, my dear. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Obi-wan found himself gently tipped onto a bed. Bail was on top of him in an instant, dark eyes gleaming with wanton desire. 

The taller man descended like a shreikhawk to attack Obi-wan’s neck with unwanted licks and nips and kisses. It wasn’t long before the pale skin was covered in hickeys and bruises. It would be a challenge hiding them from the Temple’s prying eyes. 

A pair of firm yet tender hands explored the redhead’s still form. Even though he couldn’t move Obi-wan could feel everything. Those traced the contours of his body, especially around his hips and thighs, in curious exploration. 

And through it all Obi-wan kept his eyes fixated on the ceiling over Bail’s shoulder, trying to pretend he was anywhere but here. 

At last the dark haired man sat back to examine the jedi beneath him like an artist examined their latest work. 

“Bail, don’t do this,” Obi-wan pleaded.

An odd look flashed across the Chancellor’s face. “You said name a price.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Shh,” Bail interrupted gently, a slender finger pressing against chapped lips. “Your friends shall get their bearwood roots. I’ll see to it myself.”

With that he leaned forward to hungrily claim the Jedi’s mouth with his own. And Obi-wan closed his eyes, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop this.


	2. Don't Think About It

Obi-wan slowly came to in an unfamiliar bed. Tanned arms lay wrapped around his midsection in a possessive embrace. It was enough to make Obi-wan’s gut roll.

Carefully, the redhead untangled himself from the chancellor’s grasp. His clothes remained where they’d been tossed aside, by some miracle moderately unrumpled. Carefully he dressed himself, trying not to pay attention to the noises of Bail waking as well.

He was just pulling on his shirt when the taller man spoke. “Gods, you’re so beautiful, Kenobi. I should have you over more often.”

That statement was enough to make the redhead's blood turn to ice. For a moment he didn’t know what to say as his mind briefly flailed in horror.

“I... I should get back to the Temple,” Obi-wan replied instead. “Che’s probably wondering where in the hells I am.”

With that he picked up his cloak off the floor and draped it around himself. Fortunately most of the marks were on the side of his neck rather than the front, small mercies. All it took was some fiddling with the hood to hide them from sight.

All the while Bail watched him from the bed, dark eyes never leaving the Jedi’s frame. 

Never had Obi-wan been so eager to get out of that man’s sight. Cautiously, the redhead peered down each end of the grand hall. Thankfully no one was in sight. The coast was clear!

And thus began his long walk of shame back to the Temple.

Obi-wan didn’t really want to go back to the Halls of Healing, but he knew he had to report the deal’s outcome. That aid would be arriving, their people would recover. 

“There you are!” Che exclaimed, eyes narrowed in displeasure. “I was about to send a search party for your sorry hide. What took you so long?”

Obi-wan winced. “The negotiations took longer than expected.” Length wasn’t the only aspect that was surprising, but Che didn’t need to know that.

The twi’lek huffed. “Did you at least manage to negotiate the embargo down?”

“Yes,” Obi-wan replied. “In fact the first shipment of bearwood should be here before… before… what time is it?”

She told him and Obi-wan was stunned to find he had been at the Senate Dome for almost eight hours. Just what had Bail been doing to him?

Blue eyes roamed his battered frame, Obi-wan doing his best to maintain a mask of neutrality. Evidently it wasn’t good enough as those piecing orbs narrowed. For a terrifying second he thought she had seen the marks on his neck before the Healer gave a tired sigh.

“Get some rest, Kenobi. I can feel your exhaustion from here.” 

Knowing there was no use trying to argue, so he bowed and turned to return to his quarters. 

The sound of boots on tile echoed like thunder as he passed through empty halls. So many Jedi had fallen dangerously ill, there was no doubt in Obi-wan’s mind that not all of them would have made it.

But they would recover. All of them. From what little he thought he knew about that man, Obi-wan knew Bail always kept his word. The bearwood roots would arrive any day now and sooner or later things will all return to normal.

So surely that made his sacrifice worth it… right? Surely something good, at least, will come from his torment. Surely it wasn’t all for nothing.

Obi-wan could feel a pressure at the back of his eyes, his vision starting to blur. ‘No, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,’ he thought desperately. ‘Not where everyone can see you.’

He wasn’t entirely sure who “everyone” was, but Obi-wan didn’t want to break down where people could all too easily see his failure.

There, his door was up ahead! Obi-wan punched in the code a bit harder than necessary. The door opening and shutting behind him was a welcome salvation, hiding him away from prying eyes.

The redhead only managed to get in a few steps before he pressed his back against a wall and slid down. He was trembling now, tears flowing freely down his face. The sobs he had held abc were now free to spring forth as shame curled deep in his gut.

Logically he knew it wasn’t his fault, that there was nothing he could do to prevent what had happened. But that didn’t stop him from feeling dirty and broken and used and…

Tucking his knees up to his chest, Obi-wan rested his forehead against trembling forearms.

Obi-wan knew he should probably tell someone about what had happened. He should probably get medical attention for what had happened to him. What had been done to him.

The Jedi would believe him, the clones would believe him… but who else? It was no secret that the Senate deeply disrutsed the Jedi next door, and the feeling was largely mutual. Without solid proof -proof Obi-wan lacked- this could easily be taken as an unfound attempt to discredit the Senate’s newest figurehead. 

Not to mention it would alienate their current closest ally. 

Even as a senator Bail had always fought on the side of the Jedi. His aid in swaying the Senate had been incredibly beneficial countless times before. Even after everything he had still sent in the much needed bearwood roots so the Temple could recover.

If friend suddenly became foe…

No, no one could find out what happened last night. 

That’s fine, Obi-wan was used to being overlooked and ignored. He could easily do so again. Especially if it meant keeping the best situation for his family.

It would be his burden to bear. Alone.

* * *

Anakin’s lip curled, backing away from the offending bowl. “That stuff’s vile.”

“Drink,” Che demanded, pushing it against disgruntled lips. “Or would you rather die of Sunset fever?”

The blonde shot a quick glance at Obi-wan watching the exchange. “I’ll take my cha- mmff!”

Anakin had made the mistake of opening his mouth and Che was quick to force the bowl into the opening. Too weak to struggle, all the blonde could do was choke down the bitter bearwood root brew. 

Finally satisfied, the twi’lek stepped back. A glance at Ahsoka was enough for the togruta to hold out her hands and accept her own bowl. Wise choice. It couldn’t taste good, but she downed it all without a single complaint. 

The two had recovered smoothly so far, their faces returning to their regular colors (even though it was harder to see on Ahsoka). It wasn’t long before Obi-wan was allowed to visit without a hazmat suit. Though unfortunately hugs weren’t recommended.

“I’ll be back in four hours for another dose,” Che announced, turning to the room’s other healthy occupant. “Do try to keep them from doing anything stupid.”

‘They’re Anakin and Ahsoka. Of course they’re going to do something stupid,’ Obi-wan thoguht. He didn’t say that, through. Instead he gave a dutiful nod, watching as the twi’lek swept out of the room. 

For a moment silence descended, the only sound benign the trio’s breaths.

“Man, Xorsa was a sithhole,” Anakin groaned. “Remind me never to go there again.” 

“Noted, Master,” Ashoka replied faux-cheerfully. 

Obi-wan blinked in surprise. “You’ve been to Xorsa?”

“Yeah, me and Ahsoka were sent out to try and negotiate with them,” Anakin explained. “You were still in the Halls, so I don’t think you were involved in the decision.” 

That was right. Obi-wan had still been gradually recovering from the final confrontation with Sidious. Che had been hesitant to ever let him out of the Halls of Healing. 

“Bail had assigned teams to go and try and negotiate planets to return to the Republic,” Ahsoka explained. “We were lucky enough to find a plague waiting for us on ours.”

“Glad to see our string of bad luck survived the war,” Anakin quipped cheekily. “You better watch out, Master. It’s coming for you next.”

Obi-wan laughed even though his heart clenched. “Oh I hope not. I think I’ve had enough bad luck already.” 

The others nodded, clearly recalling the fight with Palpatine. Yet Obi-wan himself found himself thinking back to a very different meeting with a different-

No, don’t think about it. ‘If you don’t think about it it can’t hurt you.’

“You’re frowning,” Ahsoka suddenly piped up, pulling Obi-wan from his grimmer thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

For a second the redhead hesitated before giving a shrug. “I’m just glad you two are on the road for recovery now,” he replied. “You had me scared for a minute there.”

Anakin must have sensed some distress because his Force signature brushed against his own, Ahsoka soon doing the same. “You don’t have to worry about us, Master,” the teen chirped encouragingly. 

“We’re not going anywhere,” Anakin agreed firmly.

‘We’re here for you,’ they whispered against his shields. Neither one knew what had happened last night -didn’t even know that something had happened. And yet both of them saw he was bothered and immediately jumped to try and reassure him. 

For a moment Obi-wan wanted nothing more to drop his shields, to let those he trusted most to take some of the weight off his shoulders. If just for a moment.

But then he thought of what their reactions would be. He could easily picture Ahsoka’s horror and shock as if she were expressing it now.

And with Anakin- brilliant, unwavering, reckless Anakin -there was no doubt what his own reaction would be. A blind, murderous rage as he stormed the Chancellor’s office in search of vengeance. The exact opposite of what Obi-wan wanted him to do.

So he took some comfort in their support but kept his shields steadily up.

No one must know what happened last night.


	3. Suspicions

For not the first time, Padme found herself standing in the Chancellor’s office. She had been many times, the mighty office almost seeming familiar now. 

Yet no matter how many times she entered the darkened colors, towering statues, and the large mahogany desk never failed to make her feel small. Vulnerable. The room was designed to intimidate and that it did very well.

The only difference now was that now a different Chancellor occupied the position. 

He had clearly been trying to make it appear more inviting. Potted plants lined the walls along with warm, natural paintings. It wasn’t quite open-arms welcome yet, but it was taking steps to get there.

“Greetings, Chancellor,” Padme bowed respectfully. It was still a bit surprising seeing her friend in this high-up position, the leader and figurehead of the entire Republic.

“Please, Padme, it’s still just Bail,” the dark haired man replied dismissively. “How are you?”

“I’m doing fine myself,” Padme replied casually. Bail pulled her up a chair and she was more than happy to relax into it.

The two spent the next few moments making idle small talk as they caught up with each other. Padme shared her sister’s wedding and Bail was almost ecstatic to report the birth of his brand new daughter, Winter.

At the mention of birth and children Padme couldn’t help but remember her own swollen stomach. She had only been expecting for about a month now and was already exhausted. Just the thought of seven more months of this was painful.

But Anakin had been so excited at the news. He hardly left her side, snatching up every opportunity for escort available. The sheer unbridled joy and excitement in those sapphire eyes was enough to keep her going on. 

And yet recently she hadn’t seen him, not even over comms. Come to think of it Padme hadn’t seen any Jedi recently. The Order mysteriously disappearing into their Temple.

“I sense there’s something pressing on your mind, Padme,” Bail gently prompted.

“I’m worried about the Jedi,” she admitted.

Bail blinked in mild surprise. “The Jedi?”

“Yes,” Padme replied. “I myself am friends with many of them, yet I haven’t heard from them in a while. I’m worried something bad must have happened to them.”

At that Bail’s expression hardened. “That I know,” he replied. “Just yesterday I learned of an outbreak of some disease throughout the Temple. All but the creche was infected.”

Padme was unable to hold back her soft gasp of horror, slender hand flying up to her mouth. Instantly her mind was conjuring up horrifying images to dance across her vision. Her friends were there. By the Gods, her husband was there!

“That’s horrible,” she breathed. “How did you find out.”

“Master Kenobi came to my office seaking aid,” Bail replied honestly. “Of course I gave them whatever medicine they needed. The Jedi have suffered much throughout the war, it is only fair they have someone looking after them now.”

“Did he appear sick?” Padme asked. She doubted her friend would be allowed out of the Temple, but it never hurt to ask.

“Oh he seemed very healthy to me,” the Chancellor replied. “We had a lovely conversation before he had to return.”

Padme had the feeling he was leaving something out -something important- but she didn’t pry. 

Suddenly Bail’s commlink chirped. He glanced down at it before giving an apologetic wince. “I’m afraid our time together has come to an end.”

“That’s fine,” Padme replied with a casual shrug. “Seeing you again was welcome enough, my friend”

Bail smiled with a respectful bow. “And you as well, Padme.”

* * *

After over three decades of dealing with Obi-wan, Healer Che knew when he was hiding something from her. He didn’t seem to be injured -for once- that was all she could tell. All she knew was that he had left the Temple only to return several hours later trying to hide something.

It nagged at the back of her mind all day, even as she checked over her other patients.

“You look like you got something on your mind, doc,” Quinlan spoke up.

Che sent him a stern glare -she always hated that nickname- before deciding to drop it. “Did obi-wan seem odd to you?” She asked, watching his expression.

“He seemed like Obi-wan?” The kriffar replied, a bit at a loss. “Is there something wrong?”

“I don’t know, there might be,” Che confessed, watching as his expression grew serious. “I don’t know much about negotiations, but i’m pretty sure they don’t last eight hours. Especially when it’s between just two people.”

Quinlan nodded, brows pinching together. “That is suspicious.”

Che bit at the inside of her lip, examining her next words carefully. “I have reason to believe,” she said, turning back to the Shadow. “That not everything is quite as it seems.”

Brown eyes lit up with realization. “You want me to investigate the chancellor.”

“You still have the hidden camera in the Chancellor’s office?” She asked pointedly. Not even the late Chancellor and Sith Lord Palpatine had been able to discover it.

“Of course,” Quinlan replied honestly.

“Open,” she instructed, slipping a thermometer into his mouth. “I would like to keep this on the down low. The Senate is suspicious of us already.” Accusations of spying would only add fuel to the fire. 

He nodded, knowing the risks as well as she did. While relations have steadily improved, they still weren’t great. One wrong move and it could all collapse like a house of cards.

The thermometer beeped and Che withdrew it to read his temperature. “Looks like you’re healthy enough to be wandering around outside the Halls,” she stated casually, despite her word’s implications.

“Don’t worry, doc,” Quinlan replied as he squared his shoulders in determination. “I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Che could only hope so.


	4. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Comfrotember Prompt "Crying"

Quinlan Vos was never really the most diplomatically adept Knight. Or Padawan, for that matter. He’d been more likely to sleep through a debate or meeting than actually pay attention. 

But there was just something about Obi-wan’s meeting with Bail that just struck him as wrong. Most 

So Quinlan booted up the hidden camera’s footage from the time of the negotiations…

And promptly cursed. Thick, green leaves covered a good two thirds of the screen. Apparently in his new horticulture spree Chancellor Organa had placed a potted plant right where the camera lay hidden.

Intentionally or on accident, Quin didn’t know. Either way a good chunk of the camera’s view was obscured. 

That didn’t stop Quinlan from catching a glimpse of familiar auburn hair. The view wasn’t perfect but it was much better than nothing. Quin could work with this. And so the kriffar sat back to watch his friend.

Obi-wan’s face betrayed no emotion even as the Chancellor walked around his desk to stand beside him. There was a slight flinch as a tanned hand landed on his shoulder but Obi-wan gave no other reaction. 

Until he suddenly collapsed. The Chancellor was there in a heartbeat, gathering the Jedi in his arms. Even from here Quin could see the dullness in obi-wan’s eyes. Drugs.

And so as he watched Organa carry the limp Jedi out of sight Quin realized he had a very bad feeling about this.

* * *

Obi-wan took a deep breath, staring somewhat blankly at the door. A little plaque on it read “Kenobi and Skywalker” in sharp, impossible to miss Aurebesh. It was the second name on that piece of metal that made obi-wan more uneasy than anything else.

Anakin knew him better than anyone. Even without the bond all it took was a glance and both knew what the other was thinking. The blonde’s Force signature was as familiar as his own. So was his protectiveness and desire to keep his loved ones safe. At all costs.

And if a loved one was injured… then may the Force have mercy on whatever poor fool had earned his ire.

Which was why Obi-wan couldn’t let Anakin see what had happened not so long ago. 

He had started avoiding the blonde more and more as he slowly recovered. Not that Anakin seemed to mind, or even notice really. More often than not he was visiting his not-so-secret wife to keep tabs on her very noticeable and very “mysterious” pregnancy. 

And yet the blonde had clearly noticed something was bothering his old mentor. So the blonde had told Obi-wan he was free to drop by whenever he needed. 

Normally he wouldn’t be doing this, randomly dropping by unannounced. But it had been a while since he had seen his brother. The clones were a welcome company but they were always so busy and Obi-wan didn’t want to distract them with his whining.

And so, on slightly shaky legs, the redead found his way here. With a deep breath he summoned up all his courage and pushed open the door.

The room on the other side was surprisingly dark. The lights were shut off, the only illumination coming from the omnipresent stream of speeders and transports outside the window. “Anakin,” he called out warily, only to get no response.

Now that he actually reached out Obi-wan could feel that Anakin’s Force signature, while still present, was dimmer now. The blonde must have been here earlier but had left recently.

In fact, there was a hastily scrawled note on the counter. ‘Out for a bit. Senate. Sorry about mess. Feel free 2 make tea if u want.’ 

Obi-wan rolled his eyes. Padme. Of course the moment that boy was semi-adequately healed he was shooting off to go visit his wife. 

Fine by Obi-wan. It meant he could enjoy a familiar, comforting Force signature and not have to talk to anyone. He drew it around his shoulders like a blanket, basking in its warmth.

Well, he might as well make himself some tea. Force knows that was the only reason Anakin kept any leaves in his quarters. He certainly didn’t drink any himself. 

So Obi-wan threw in some leaves in a kettle, poured water on them, and set it to boil. As the water heated it turned atat orangey brown as the leaves bleed into it. Like how Bail’s drugs had bled-

No! Obi-wan’s hands clenched into fists on the counter. Don’t think about it.

‘It’s in the past, the past can’t hurt you,’ Obi-wan reminded himself. As if that statement were true.

But if that was true then why did fear jolt through his veins every time he heard Bail’s name? Why did he wake in the dead of night screaming at the feeling of nonexistent hands on his body? Why was he unable to bring himself to set in the Senate Dome?

The kettle screamed as Obi-wan found himself sinking to the kitchen floor. Unbidden his vision suddenly blurred with tears. 

By now he was trembling so hard he must be shaking the whole kitchen. Instinctively his knees came up to his chest. Obi-wan folded his arms on top and buried his face in them. As if that would somehow stem the constant flow of tears. No such luck. 

‘What in the hells are you doing?’ He mentally scolded himself. Having a breakdown in someone else’s rooms. Now that was just asking for questions.

Questions he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

Not just because of the political repercussions- though that was a key influence. No, he just couldn’t hear himself say it out loud. Because if he did…

If he did then surely send him spiraling more. With the Temple still recovering from the outbreak, they needed as much help from the healthy few as they could get. The others were counting on Obi-wan to help pull his weight. He had to get up and pull himself together.

And yet he just… couldn’t. 

He must really have looked pathetic. Here Obi-wan was, sitting on the floor making a great big fool out of himself. He couldn’t even make the tears stop, let alone stand up and pretend everything was fine.

To make matters worse it was just then the door slid open. The figure paused, Force signature lighting up with shock and alarm, before rushing over to his side. “Obi-wan!”

Obi-wan just 

“Obi-wan, what’s wrong?” Anakin was kneeling beside him now. A hand rested on Obi-wan’s shoulder as the blonde’s sapphire eyes shone with worry.

Worry. Obi-wan never wanted his loved ones to worry about him. When they were worried they asked questions, they did some digging. Neither would lead to anything good with the secrets he hid.

Anakin must have noticed Obi-wan wasn’t able to respond because that metal hand rubbed comforting patterns into his trembling back. “Breathe, Obi-wan, just breath,” the blonde murmured encouragingly.

For several moments that felt like years Obi-wan’s chest rose and fell in blind panic. His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out everything but Anakin’s soft support. And through it all Anakin sat with him, never even considering leaving his brother’s side. 

At long last Obi-wan managed to regain enough control of his vocal cords to rasp out a pair of syllables. “Ani?”

“It’s me, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” the blonde replied, pressing a gentle kiss to auburn hair. “I promise.”

Those words held such concern and love that it almost broke Obi-wan’s resolve right there. Anakin moved his arm to wrap around his shoulders and Obi-wan didn’t resist. He found himself leaning into his brother’s welcome touch.

For a moment the two sat in silence, just breathing together. Anakin’s breaths were calm and steady so Obi-wan worked to sync up their breathing. Slowly the tenseness in his shoulders melted away, his fear fleeing with it.

“You ok, Master?” Anakin asked.

Obi-wan could only manage a teary nod. “Y-yeah.”

“What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Sapphire eyes scanned his frame as if searching for any gaping wounds or concerning bruises. 

The shorter man shook his head. “Not exa’ly.” 

The few marks Bail had left on him had since yellowed and faded away. The real injuries were internal, buried deeper than any Healer could reach. 

“What happened?”

Obi-wan found himself tensing. This was the very question he was dreading. 

When the redhead didn’t respond Anakin gave a slight squeeze. “It’s ok, Obi-wan. You can tell me.”

“It’s,” Obi-wan swiped angrily at his tears. “It’s nothing, Anakin. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine.”

Sandy brows pinched together as Anakin’s mouth formed a thin line. “Right, because you certainly look fine having a panic attack in the middle of the kitchen.”

Obi-wan pulled himself away. “I’m sorry,” he said in lue of anything else. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll be going now.”

Of course he didn’t even manage to get to his feet before a hand on his wrist stopped him. It gently tugged him back down and Obi-wan gave up whatever thin resistance he had left. Hesitant azure eyes met concerned sapphire ones.

“Obi-wan, I want to help you,” Anakin pleaded. “Just tell me what’s wrong. Let me fix this.”

Obi-wan’s knee-jerk reaction was to deny him. To shove the blonde away and keep all his secrets hidden within. Anakin’s infamous rage would only make this whole situation even worse.

And yet here Anakin was, calmly sitting with him while projecting nothing but comfort and support. 

“Promise me… you won’t tell anyone,” Obi-wan pleaded himself. “Especially no one in the Senate. Not even Padme.”

“I promise,” Anakin replied. Obi-wan scanned those eyes and found only sincerity. 

He decided to trust him.

So Obi-wan took a deep breath and began the story of what happened all those nights ago.


	5. Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back by unpopular demand: pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Comfortember Prompts "Protective" and "Flashbacks"

Whatever Anakin expected Obi-wan to tell him, it certainly wasn’t this.

“And then he said ‘I wasn’t speaking of credits’,” the redhead recounted, voice trembling painfully. The voice sounded so much like Bail’s that Anakin knew the other must have heard that line over and over in his head. “He drugged me... I- I couldn’t move.”

All Anakin could do was sit there and listen. With every passing moment he wanted more and more to gather Obi-wan into his arms in a hug. Yet he forced himself to simply sit there and listen. To be the silent comfort yet supportive Obi-wan needed.

“He picked me up then,” Obi-wan continued painfully. “Kissed me, touched me.” He shuddered violently. “Then he laid me down in bed, climbed on top and… and…”

The redhead trailed off, tearfully shaking his head. But while his words died, the blonde picked up on his meaning loud and clear. Even if he almost wished he hadn’t. 

And Anakin had no idea what to say to that. 

This whole conversation felt unreal. Assault -rape- was supposed to be just a statistic. It wasn’t supposed to impact his loved ones who he cared so much about. Especially not his best friend, his brother in all but blood. 

“Obi-wan, I…” Anakin’s voice trailed off. A hundred thoughts sprung to mind, only to die away on his tongue. All but one. “May I hug you.”

Obi-wan gave a shaky nod and that was all the encouragement Anakin needed. He pulled the smaller man into his arms, tucking his nose into auburn strands.

He almost expected Obi-wan to tense up, to pull away. But instead the redhead snuggled into the welcome embrace, seeking comfort from the man he trusted most. It wasn't long before the blonde felt a wet spot against his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Obi-wan sobbs. “I-I tried to fight him off, I tried so ha-ard. I just… he was… I couldn’t… I…”

Anakin pulls away slightly to press his forehead against his friends’. “Obi-wan, look at me.”

Azure eyes hesitantly glance up to meet his own. “You did all you could. And while it wasn’t enough to prevent what happened to you-” a soft hitch of breath “-you made it through this.”

Obi-wan nuzzled his face back into the blonde’s shoulder, Anakin once running mechanical fingers through auburn hair. “Besides, you’re not alone anymore. You have me, you Padme, you have the clo-”

Obi-wan cut him off with a minute shake of his head. “I’d prefer no one else know about my… my…”

His what? Failure? Weakness? Anakin’s lips thinned into a narrow line of displeasure. Unfortunately both sounded likely to be the word Obi-wan was going to use. Especially with the shame quietly radiating off the smaller man’s form.

“Master, you do know it’s not your fault,” Anakin hesitantly prodded. “Right?”

“I should have seen it coming,” Obi-wan muttered bitterly into his shoulder. “It’s my own damn fault I was caught off guard.”

Stunned, Anakin felt his mind flail in horror. Surely Obi-wan didn’t… didn’t actually believe that.

“Obi-wan, Bail was your friend. You trusted him,” Anakin protested. “This is his fault alone, and certainly not yours.”

“The Force was uneasy. I should have known something would happen.”

“No one could have seen this coming. Not even you,” Anakin countered patiently. Besides, the Force had been uneasy ever since most of the Temple had suddenly fallen ill. “None of this was your fault, Master.”

At that Obi-wan let out another violent sob, hands fisited in Anakin’s dark tunic. The blonde made no move to shush him, instead running comforting patterns across his back. How many times had their roles been reversed? Obi-wan wrapping Anakin up in a comforting, steady embrace? It was only fair the young Knight did the same.

So he held his best friend, his brother in all but blood, as his fragile control finally shattered.

* * *

Senate duty. It was a task that even under normal circumstances Anakin had only ever enjoyed it when he could spend time with Padme. Which, sadly, was a lot less often than he would like.

But now, after the brutal war, it was much worse. Especially knowing the newly appointed Chancellor might suddenly waltz around the corner… it was enough to make his mechanical fingers clench into a tight fist. If only Organa did in fact waltz around the corner, Anakin might just be so inclined to demonstrate what a metal arm was capable of.

But unfortunately, decking a politician was apparently bad for diplomacy. No matter how much said politician deserved it. 

And with its numbers decimated by the recent outbreak, right now the Order needed all hands on deck. So Anakin and Obi-wan had very reluctantly accepted this assignment. 

Speaking of Obi-wan…

“You ok, Master?” Anakin asked pointedly. They hadn’t encountered anyone non-clone yet, and with it being the two of them Anakin could easily see just how uneasy his brother was.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I’m fine,” the redhead replied dismissively. “I was just-”

Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a silky greeting. “Ah, Master Kenobi.”

Anakin cursed under his breath. Speak of the devil…

For a moment Obi-wan paled before pulling himself together. “Chancellor.”

“It’s good to see you again, my friend. And I'm glad to hear you’re healthy at last, Knight SKywalker,” the Chancellor said in that sickening voice of his. 

Before now Anakin would have passed it off as the older man being polite, welcome even. But after hearing what this vile man had done, how he had tricked obi-wan into dropping his guard, all it did was fill Anakin with revulsion.

“And you as well, Chancellor,” Obi-wan responded with a respectful bow.

“Please, it’s just Bail,” the Chancellor replied. “All my friends call me Bail.”

“Noted, Chancellor,” Obi-wan deadpanned.

The taller man blinked, clearly taken aback, but recovered quick enough. “I was wondering if you would be interested in joining my wife and I for dinner tomorrow night. It has been so long since we’ve last caught up.”

Anakin just barely held back the growl building in his throat. Bail outright rapes Obi-wan, and then has the gaul to invite him to dinner?

And he had a wife too. Bail was a married man and still decided to assault the Jedi anyways. Did Breha know about her husband’s blatant infidelity? Did she even care? 

“I’m not sure, Chancellor, the Temple has been keeping us pretty busy,” Obi-wan replied diplomatically. “Perhaps not.”

The redhead is externally calm, as still as a frozen lake. And yet Anakin can hear him screaming behind his mental shields. 

Instinctively he presses up against his best friend’s Force Signature, radiating support and comfort. ‘Don’t worry, Master, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I swear.’ And Obi-wan leans into the intangible touch. 

“A shame,” the Chancellor mutters. “Our last conversation was certainly enjoyable.”

And with that last statement it takes all of Anakin’s self control not to just deck him right then and there. Obi-wan’s hand grabs his arm, a firm reminder that they simply cannot afford to make a scene. As satisfying as it would be.

“Sure,” Obi-wan replied in a flat tone that suggested it was anything but. “Oh! I believe Senator Chuchi was looking for you.”

It was, of course, a complete and utter lie. But it would get Organa out of their faces so Anakin wasn’t exactly complaining. 

“Ah, then I shall go see her,” the taller man replied. And then with a “good day, Master Jedi” he turned and disappeared down the hall. Anakin’s lip curled in disgust as he watched the Chancellor walk off. Oh what he wouldn’t give to run over and beat that wretched man into a bloody pulp.

He felt Obi-wan’s fingers tighten on his sleeve and just barely fought back a surge of annoyance. How little control did he think Anakin ahd. “Relax, Obi-wan, I’m not going to-”

But Obi-wan wasn’t even watching him. The redhead was ghostly pale, azure eyes unfocused as they stared vaguely at the floor before him. But if the shallow, gasping breaths were any indication it wasn’t the floor that the redhead was really seeing. 

A panic attack. Or flashback. Either way it was something definitely not good.

He moved to stand in front of the redhead, firm hands on the other Jedi’s shoulders. “Obi-wan? Obi-wan, can you hear me?” The redhead only trembled in response, blue-green eyes unfocussed. 

“Hey, I’m going to get you out of here,” Anakin muttered encouragingly. 

The moment he starts down one of the hallways Obi-wan moves with him. Truthfully Anakin isn’t sure where he’s going (maybe to Padme’s, maybe to the Temple) but he knows Obi-wan can’t stay here much longer. So Anakin guides him away to find a safe place away from prying eyes.

“It will be ok, Master,” he promises. “It’s all going to be ok. Trust me.”

A familiar Force presence shakily presses against his own Obi-wan’s voice replying in his mind. “Always.”


	6. Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave y’all fluff earlier tonight. Tis only fair I add in some pain to keep it balanced.

Anakin slipped silently into Padme’s empty apartment, coaxing Obi-wan in after him. “It’s ok, we’re safe here.”

Obi-wan glanced around with watery azure eyes. “Thi-this is Senator Amidala’s apartment,”he breathed. “Won’t he come back?”

“Padme’s off visiting with friends on the other side of the planet,” Anakin replied. “We won’t be disturbed.”

With that Obi-wan gaze a shaky nod and let himself be guided over to the couch. He was a bit less pale and his blue green eyes had regained some clarity. Then again he was clearly a long way away from being “fine”.

So Anakin busied himself in the kitchen with heating up a kettle for tea. Padme didn’t have very many tea leaves in her cabinets, but Anakin managed to scavenge up enough to make a pot.

Neither Jedi said anything as the water boiled. Each one stewed in their thoughts as the leaves stewed in the kettle. 

It was only when the tea was poured and Anakin approached with a mug that Obi-wan’s tongue untied. “I don’t know what happened,” he admitted. “I didn’t mean to make such a scene.”

Anakin clamped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Master,” he insisted. “We didn’t think we’d have to encounter Bail.”

The redhead gave a bitter shrug, accepting the tea. “He works here. I should have been more prepared for actually seeing him.”

Anakin said nothing in response. Instead he sat on the couch next to his brother. A muscular arm slipped around the bearded man’s shoulders.

“How’re you holding up, buddy?”

“I’m fi-”

“Honestly, Obi-wan,” Anakin cut him off. “It’s ok to admit you’re not ok. You saw Bail again, so soon after he… he…”

“After he drugged me so I couldn’t move and then raped me,” Obi-wan finished rather bluntly. “It’s ok, Anakin, you can say it.”

“Yeah. That,” the blonde swallowed dryly. “That was a traumatic experience, it’s ok to not come unscathed from it.”

Obi-wan scoffed bitterly into his tea. “War is a traumatic experience,” he 

“Different traumas affect different people in different ways,” Anakin explained. “And people heal differently from each other.” The blonde paused to press a kiss to his brother’s temple. 

“Besides,” he continued. “Healing takes time. I know you may not feel like it, but you’re actually doing great.”

Despite everything Obi-wan gave a small smile. With hsi cup it would have been almost completely hidden if not for the pinching of the corners of his eyes.

Anakin gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. For a moment they sat like that, gazing into each other’s eyes. 

“We’re going to have to confront him eventually,” Anakin suddenly spoke. “He needs to be brought to justice.” 

Obi-wan nodded, lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure. “I know.”

And with that the two trailed off, seated comfortably side by side.

Neither noticed the senator standing just around the corner, having listened to the whole horrifying conversation. Silently she slid down the wall, a hand cupped against stunned lips.

What was she supposed to do with this revelation now?

\-----------------------------

Like many senators Padme Amidala was very rarely angry. She’d be annoyed, impassioned, emboldened. But very rarely ever truly angry. Cool heads were needed to maintain good diplomacy, so she trained much of that rage out of her.

Yet as she walked deceptively calm through the senate dome, the overheard confession echoing in her ears, Padme was absolutely enraged. And once released the sheer, barely bridled rage of an expecting woman was truly a sight to behold.

Resisting the urge to throw open the doors, however tempting it might be, Padme made her way into the Chancellor’s office. Sure enough Bail was sitting behind the great mahogany desk, looking up with a grin as he saw her enter.

“Ah, Padme,” he greeted cheerfully. “So good to see you, my friend.”

“Please, turn off the cameras, Bail,” Padme asked. “There’s something important I want to discuss without people watching. Or listening.”

“Sure, of course, let me just,” the taller man bent to hit a button on the underside of his desk. With a near inaudible click the cameras shut off, the small red light quickly vanishing.

He turned back to face her only to find himself looking down the barrel of her blaster. “P-Padme?”

“Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Obi-wan.” 

Dark eyes lit with recognition and, to her immense satisfaction, a hint of fear. “Who told you?”

“Oh, no one. I just figured it out myself,” she replied, pushing the blaster closer to his face. “Why’d you do it?”

To her surprise he gently batted her gun away, the beginnings of a self-assured smile spreading across his face. “Who could blame me?” He asked. “Kenobi is a strong, handsome young man. I have no doubt you’ve noticed it yourself.”

Padme was stunned beyond words. This man actually thought his actions could be justified? She re-centered her blaster, aiming right at the center of his forehead. “What in the hells is wrong with you?”

Bail said nothing, hsi face going carefully blank. And Padme was stunned with how little she recognized the man before her. This was not her friend, the senator she trusted. And it was when she realized Bail Organa was truly dead, leaving this stranger in his place.

Padme snarled, the grip on her blaster tightening. “Tell me why I shouldn't tell the Jedi Council what I learned. I’m sure the clones will take that well,” she spat. “Or perhaps the gossip magazines would live to have a field day with you.”

Yet as she stared at the once trusted face before her Padme knew death was too good for this man. She took a step forward, the tip of her blaster now against his temple. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t blow your brains all over this fancy carpet.”

Bail calmly held eye contact. “Your marriage.”

Despite herself Padme blinked. “What?”

“Your marriage to Knight Skywalker,” Bail calmly explained. “As you said, the gossip magazines would have an absolute field day with you. A renowned and well-respected senator having a relationship with a war general from a faction not many here on Coruscant really trust.”

He rose from his chair and Padme found herself involuntary flinching. With steady strides Bail walked around the desk and the brunette found herself backing up. She couldn't explain it, but something screamed at Padme not to let him in close.

“One might even assume you would be taking the Jedi’s side over that of the common people,” Bail continued. Steadily he advanced, with every step he took forward she took one back. 

Suddenly she felt her back bump into a wall. And still Baila advanced further, looming over the shorter politician. Their faces were less than a foot apart as he spoke again. 

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

And with that he turned and swept gracefully from the room, leaving her to ponder what he had just said.


End file.
